of the legs in the hips.’
Mercifully, his focus dropped to the creature. ‘They certainly appear bird-like. Perhaps it’s a species which no longer exists.’
‘I could make a strong case for such an argument if I could compare this beast to one of the larger species of birds.’
‘Such as an ostrich?’
‘Exactly.’ Katie met his eyes and her heart skipped a beat. He wasn’t laughing at her, but encouraging her, like he always used to. It was the first time since he’d sailed away that she’d enjoyed such support. She’d nearly forgotten what it was like.
‘Come with me.’ He reached across the table and took her hand, drawing her around it to the door leading to the hallway.
She barely had time to set the sketchbook and pencil down as he led her into the narrow, wood-panelled passage, his grip as startling as his speed. ‘Where are we going?’
‘I’ve thought of something else which might help you.’ He pulled her along the shadowed hallway towards his study.
She hurried to keep up with his long strides, holding tight to his hand, giddy and terrified at the same time. This was how it’d been before, when they would come home from searching for fossils, then seclude themselves in his study to pour over books and identify what they’d discovered.
Inside the study, he released her hand and made for a bookshelf. ‘There’s a bird in Australia, similar in shape and size to the ostrich. I made a sketch of it when I was there.’
Conrad knelt down before the bottom shelf and plucked out a book. His back arched gracefully beneath his coat as he bent over one of his old journals, the back of his neck just visible above his collar beneath his neatly trimmed hair. He rose and handed her the open journal, revealing a poorly drawn bird similar to an ostrich. ‘If you can find a better illustration of this animal and its bones, and include it in your paper, it could bolster your case for the creature being some type of bird.’
He moved to stand behind her and look over her shoulder at the drawing. The heat of his cheek was so close to hers it nearly made her drop the book. It was too much like the last time they’d been in here two years ago, when he’d showed her the maps of the Arctic and the route he intended to take. The map she’d drawn from his description was still tucked in her old sketchbook, the timeline faithfully followed by her while he was gone, then worried and fretted over when he hadn’t returned, until so much time had passed, she couldn’t bear to look at it any more.
Yet he was here, close and as enthusiastic as ever about one of her ideas. The faint spark of hope she’d experienced when he’d climbed the hill yesterday rose up again, sending a more powerful thrill through her than any unknown creature could ever create. ‘What if an animal like the one you purchased still exists and lives secluded in the north?’
‘I don’t believe they do.’ He waved her over to the globe near the wall. He spun it around to show North America.
‘I’ve been this far and two others have been here.’ He laid his finger near the top. ‘There’s nothing there but ice. Captain Ross saw evidence of caribou, but only up until this point. None of the Inuit I’ve spoken with have ever mentioned an animal like the one in the conservatory.’
‘I’ll need more proof than hearsay.’
Conrad stared at the globe as though it were a nautical chart on which he was plotting his course. In the look, she glimpsed something of the optimistic man who’d escorted her over Gorgon’s deck, describing in detail his plans for the coming adventure, not the despairing and acerbic man who’d faced her in here the other night.
‘Etienne Brule explored Canada for years. If something like the creature still roamed the north, he, or the natives he lived with, would have noted it. The Naturalist Society library contains an impressive collection of his works. If we left for London in the morning, we could be there by the afternoon.’
Her eagerness to prove the creature didn’t still live, and was in some way related to birds, paled under the reality of stepping back through the Naturalist Society’s grand front entrance. ‘I’m not sure I’m ready to return so soon.’
‘Yes, you are.’ He wrapped his solid fingers around hers. ‘I know it.’
She squeezed his hand and a faint whisper of the elation she’d once experienced with him on the Downs passed between them. All she needed to do was follow him, just like before, and she wanted to. It was a prospect as alarming as descending into a very deep mine to dig for fossils, but strangely enough, with him, she wasn’t afraid of the danger. ‘Yes, we’ll leave in the morning.’
‘Good girl.’ He slid one arm around her waist, resting it on the small of her back as he drew her closer. She slipped the journal out from between them, allowing it to dangle from her hand as she relaxed against him, tilting her face up to his. The desire burning in his brown eyes proved as mesmerising now as the first time they’d kissed. She wanted to believe in him and their love and everything he promised, just as she had during all the lonely nights when she’d cried herself to sleep with grief. Only he wasn’t dead, he was here, alive, warm and so achingly close.
He leaned in closer until the faint ring of gold in the centre of his eyes became clear. The journal dropped to the floor with a thud at Katie’s feet as all resistance to him faded with the subtle pressure of his fingers against her back. She laid her hand on his shoulder, forgetting everything except the shift of his hips against hers and the flex of his muscles beneath her palm.
A soft knock on the wall near the door echoed through the room. Both of them turned to see Mr Turner, the mine foreman, standing there, hat in his hand, his eyes focused on the floor as though it were embedded with gold coins.
Conrad let go of Katie and she stepped back, her heart racing as much from the near kiss as being discovered by someone in such a compromising position.
‘Yes, Mr Turner?’ Conrad asked, no hint of embarrassment colouring his words.
Of course he didn’t need to worry, he was a man. Little could touch him while the slightest whisper might further damage her already tarnished reputation, and no amount of support from Conrad or the scientific community could salvage it. Katie picked up the journal, her confidence and faith in Conrad wavering. It’d been wrong to be intimate in a place where anyone could stumble upon them. Mr Turner might be a simple foreman, but Katie knew how little time it took for stories from the common man to find their way into the drawing rooms of polite society.
‘Captain Essington, we found something in the mine,’ the thick-necked foreman explained. ‘Miss Linton wasn’t interested in seeing such things while you were away. Now you’ve returned, I must know if we should dig it out and bring it to you or leave it where it is.’
Katie clutched the journal to her chest, trilling her fingers as though the foreman had brought the artefact for her to feel. After her father’s death, the Whitemans Green foreman had barred her from the pit, afraid she might meet with an accident, too. It’d left her with only the Downs to scour for fossils, but, while she’d collected some interesting pieces, none could match those entombed in the slate.
Conrad cocked a smile at her as a thrill crackled between them. ‘Shall we go and see it?’
‘We shall.’
* * *
Conrad guided the gig over the bumpy road leading from Heims Hall to the mine. He slid a sideways glance at Katie who sat beside him in the high seat. The deep green of her sturdy walking dress highlighted the apples of her cheeks, which glowed pink with the cool air. Her aqua eyes shone bright with the same excitement which had graced her beautiful face before they’d been interrupted in his study.
He flicked the reins over the horse’s back, making the beast increase its pace. It heartened him to think he could draw from her as much emotion as the bones, though he envied the old creatures for the current smile decorating her full lips. It was only the second time he’d enjoyed the simple pleasure